Rockingham
Remembered
Short
Stories
Slow Down!
Jack took a long look at his
speedometer before slowing
down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth
time in as many months.  How
could a guy get caught so often?
When his car had slowed to 10
miles an hour, Jack pulled over,
but only
partially. Let the cop worry
about the potential traffic
hazard.  Maybe
some other car will tweak his
backside with a mirror.  The cop
was stepping out of his car, the
big pad in hand.  Jack thought to
himself...Bob?  Bob from
Church?

Jack sunk farther into his
trench coat. This was worse
than the coming ticket.  A
Christian cop
catching a guy from his own
church.  A guy who happened to
be a little eager to get home
after a long day at the office.  A
guy he was about to play golf
with tomorrow. Jumping out of
the car, he approached a man he
saw every Sunday morning but
not a man he'd ever seen in
uniform.  "Hi, Bob.  Fancy
meeting you like this."
"Hello, Jack."  No smile.  "Guess
you caught me red-handed in a
rush to see my wife and kids."
"Yeah, I guess."  Bob seemed
uncertain.  Good.  "I've seen
some long days at the office
lately.  I'm afraid I bent the
rules a bit-just this
once." Jack toed at a pebble on
the pavement.  "Diane said
something
about roast beef and potatoes
tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean.
I also know that you have a
reputation in our precinct."

Ouch. This was not going in the
right direction.  Time to change
tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"  
"Seventy!  Would you sit back in
your car please?" "Now wait a
minute here, Bob.  I checked as
soon as I saw you.  I was barely
nudging 65."

The lie seemed to come easier
with every ticket.  "Please, Jack,
in the car."  Flustered, Jack
hunched himself through the
still-open door.
Slamming it shut, he stared at
the dash board.  He was in no
rush to open the window. The  
minutes ticked by.  Bob
scribbled away on the pad.  Why
hadn't he asked
for a driver's license?  Whatever
the reason, it would be a month
of
Sundays before Jack ever sat
near this cop again.

A tap on the door jerked his
head
to the left. There was Bob, a
folded paper in hand.  Jack
rolled down the window a mere
two inches, just enough room
for Bob to pass him the slip.

"Thanks."   Jack could not quite
keep the sneer out of his voice.

Bob returned to his police car
without a word.  Jack watched
his retreat in the mirror.  Jack
unfolded the sheet of paper.
How much was this one going to
cost?  Wait a minute.   What was
this?
Some kind of joke?  Certainly
not a ticket.

Jack began to read: "Dear
Jack, Once upon a time I had a
daughter.  She was six when
killed by a car. You guessed it-a
speeding driver.  A fine and
three months in jail, and the
man was free.  Free to hug his
daughters, all three of them. I
only had one, and I'm going to
have to wait until Heaven before
I can ever hug her again.  A
thousand times I've tried to
forgive that man.  A thousand
times I thought I had.  Maybe I
did, but I need to do it again.
Even now. Pray for me. And be
careful.  My son is all I have
left."signed Bob.

Jack turned around in time to
see Bob's car pull away and head
down
the road. Jack watched until it
disappeared.  A full 15 minutes
later, he, too, pulled away and
drove slowly home, praying for
forgiveness and hugging a
surprised wife and kids when he
arrived.

Life is precious.  Handle it with
care. Drive safely and carefully.

Remember, cars are not the
only thing recalled by their
maker.